


No Way Out

by Snooky



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 04:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2010642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snooky/pseuds/Snooky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate ending to "Two Nazis for the Price of One." What are the consequences if Hogan, not Mannheim, had shot Freitag? 2010 PBA winner. First place: Best story based on an episode. Originally posted on ff.net in 2009.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hogan's Heroes. No copyright infringement is intended._

_A/N This alternate ending was originally intended to be a short piece that was to be published as part of my cutting room floor series. But, it took off and got too long...and too serious for that series._

_"No Way Out"_

_Chapter one_

Hogan removed his right hand from beneath his bomber jacket as he entered the outer office, closing the door behind him as he again reached for the pistol. His mind completely focused, he barely heard Klink ask him to put in a good word, as he reached for the door handle. "Yeah, sure," he mumbled as he walked in. Freitag, his back turned and his arms at his sides, was looking out the window. "Freitag," Hogan said softly, hoping that the man would face him so he would not have to shoot him in the back. The Gestapo agent turned and his eyes widened as he saw Hogan's luger. Hogan quickly fired two shots. They hit Freitag squarely in the chest. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Both Klink and Schultz heard the shots, froze, and then opened the door. Hochstetter, who had been outside, came barreling in after them. Mannheim, who was returning to the office after parking the staff car, soon followed.

Hogan let his hands drop. There was no rational way to explain what he had done. He, a POW, had a weapon and he had shot a German officer in cold blood. He held out his hand and handed his weapon to a stunned Hochstetter.

"I shot him," he said matter-of-factly.

"Klink," Hochstetter whispered, "Restrict all prisoners to their barracks." The Kommandant stood still, as if he was in a trance. "Klink!" Hochstetter yelled.

Mannheim walked over to the body, bent over and checked for a pulse. "He's dead," he declared. Hogan could clearly see the gleam in the aide's eye.

Klink momentarily regained his senses and ordered Schultz to restrict prisoners to their barracks. Schultz stole a glance at Hogan, and then left the building.

Mannheim, who, although ambitious, was almost as stupid as Freitag made him out to be, now looked to Hochstetter for guidance. The major wasted no time in taking charge. Pointing his gun at the American officer, he ordered Hogan to face the wall and cuffed his hands behind his back.

"Hogan, why?" Klink was looking for an explanation. Anything. Self defense, an accident. Never mind where Hogan had acquired a gun.

"It's like this, Sir." Hogan was stalling for time. Things had spiraled out of control so fast; he never had the time to think of a plausible excuse.

"Hold on. Stop." Hochstetter held up his hand, silencing the American. "There will be plenty of time for questions and answers, back at headquarters." He was almost gleeful in anticipation. "This will be done properly, Klink. Then, well…" His voice trailed off.

"But… But, where did you get the gun?" Klink stood eye to eye with his now former senior POW officer. He was imploring, no, begging him to come up with a rational explanation. "I need to know," Klink explained to Hochstetter. "In case one of my guards…"

"It was a guard, Kommandant." Hogan broke in. "I bribed him. But he's long gone. Deserted. I've had the gun for a while."

"Who?"

Hogan shrugged.

"What was his name?"

Hogan shrugged again.

"Klink, he's not going to tell you."

"Major, we did have some desertions a while back." Klink began his spin. He now knew he had to protect himself.

Meanwhile, Mannheim was on the phone. He had the wherewithal to order a backup unit to pick up the body. "The coroner's on his way, Major," he proudly announced.

Schultz returned and reported in. "The prisoners are all secure in their barracks, Kommandant." He could not make eye contact with Hogan. "What should I tell the guards?" He asked.

"Nothing for now."

"Nothing for now," Klink repeated Hochstetter word for word. "Stand guard outside." Klink waved Schultz off and sat down.

Hogan felt strangely calm. The adrenaline rush he experienced when he had entered the building had subsided and he could almost say that he was having an out of body experience. A tingling in his hands, an unpleasant reminder of the handcuffs, jolted him back to reality. He looked around the office. Klink was seated behind his desk. True to form, he looked distraught and scared. Mannheim stood by the safe, looking pleased with the whole scenario. Hogan briefly thought it was a shame he could not have framed him for the murder. He certainly had motive.

Hochstetter, who'd been pointing a gun at the colonel the entire time, had a thought and then asked Mannheim to cover Hogan while he reattached Hogan's handcuffs to a pipe.

"I don't want to have to shoot you if you run, Colonel," he sneered. "I would not want to lose the opportunity for interrogation."

"Glad I could make your day." Hogan was a bit mad at himself. He should've run while he had the chance. Being shot and killed right then would have neatly ended the whole affair. He closed his eyes. By now the rest of the men in Barracks two would have been briefed. He knew they would have been in utter shock at the turn of events. First the evacuation order had gone out. That was quickly rescinded. Then he had the entire barracks cleared, save for Carter, Kinch, Newkirk and Lebeau. He did not want anyone else witnessing that he had grabbed a gun. Without thinking, Hogan pulled on the cuff chaining him to the pipe. He left the four of them with no time to come to terms with what had transpired. No pre - planning, no orders. He trusted Kinch to do the right thing. He had to. Kinch was now most likely on the radio. Hogan briefly wondered if Butler would order a shutdown.

Hochstetter interrupted the colonel's thoughts. "You're uncharacteristically quiet, Hogan." Seeing through the window that his men had arrived, he took out the key, unlocked the cuff attached to the pipe and placed it around Hogan's other wrist. He then pushed him towards the door.

"Klink, you'll wait here for the coroner."

"But, Major…" Klink stood up and protested. "Regulations. I need to be in attendance."

"Klink, this is a Gestapo matter now." Hochstetter could not believe the Kommandant was even attempting to insert Luftwaffe protocol. What an idiot.

"You'll wait here, Kommandant." Mannheim's delight at the turn of events gave him the guts to show some authority.

Klink, defeated, stepped back. Hogan had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He then decided to be magnanimous. "Kommandant," he said. "I'd salute, but I'm a bit tied up." Mannheim grinned. Klink did not respond. He just looked away.

"Move," Hochstetter ordered. He gave Hogan a push.

"I'm cooperating, Major." Hogan, who wanted to leave with some dignity, glared at the shorter man.

The major relented and removed his hand from the Colonel's back. It made no difference to him. He had his quarry. For a long time, he had been clamoring about his suspicions, but no one would pay attention. Well, he thought. They would listen to him now. At that moment, it never occurred to Hochstetter to question why Hogan had made himself a sitting duck, nor did he really care that Freitag was dead.

Mannheim followed Hogan and Hochstetter out of the building. The aide, who was still happily shocked at his good fortune, could care less what happened to the colonel. Let Hochstetter deal with him. The aide had other fish to fry and brass to kiss up to.

*******

By now, word of what Hogan had done had spread throughout the guard ranks. Most were stunned. More than a few figured Hogan had a good reason to kill a Gestapo chief and several were racked with guilt over feeling grief for the enemy. For they all knew that the colonel would be executed.

The news also spread throughout the tunnel system. Kinch was on the radio, while Newkirk, LeBeau and Carter held in their emotions as best as they could and began to brief, first the barracks, and then the rest of the camp. The words, "Manhattan Project" were not mentioned, only that the colonel felt he had no choice; that he alone was responsible and that the reasons behind his decision were justified.

One prisoner, who was manning the periscope, reported that Hogan was being escorted out of the building and that Hochstetter had backup.

"Let's have a look." Newkirk wasn't discounting a truck ambush at this point.

"'E's shoving the guv'nor into the staff car," he said glumly. "There's another car and a truck following." He pushed down the periscope.

"We'll never get an Underground unit ready in time, Peter." Lebeau had walked over to Newkirk and put his hand around his shoulders. "And there are too many men in the convoy."

"We have to try something," Newkirk protested. "Carter?"

Carter shook his head. "I know we should," he said softly, "But the colonel would not want anyone else getting killed."

"I'm willing to take that risk. I can't just sit here knowing 'e's going to be…"

"Don't say it!" Carter stood up. "Don't." He headed for the bunk entrance to the tunnel, only to be stopped by Kinch, who was returning to the common room.

Everyone looked at the man who was now in charge. He had a stricken look on his face.

"What did London say?" Olsen had been staring into space.

"London says: no evacuation. With Freitag dead, they feel the operation hasn't been compromised."

"But what if the colonel talks?"

"He would never," LeBeau turned around, and prepared to belt the prisoner foolish enough to express out-loud what most of the men were thinking.

"Hold it, LeBeau! Take it easy." Olsen grabbed the Frenchman and held him back.

"Knock it off!" Kinch, still clasping the blue paper holding London's orders, separated the two prisoners. "London said they are confident that the colonel will not talk." His voice then broke. "Rescue mission denied. Any attempt will be seen by the Germans as evidence of Underground contact." Kinch walked over to the stove and tossed the paper in. Looking at the stunned group of prisoners, he added, "We'll be questioned. No clue he had the gun. Never heard about the project."

"Confident he won't talk? Let him be tortured to death then. Is that it?"

"No, Carter." Kinch hesitated for a second. "Let's discuss this." He motioned to the office. Lebeau, Carter and Newkirk followed and shut the door.

*********

The Gestapo convoy shepherding Hogan to Hammelburg arrived quickly and safely at Gestapo headquarters. After an uncomfortable and humiliating search, where no cyanide was found in his possession, Hogan was then brought to a room for questioning.

"My men will be scouring the camp for more evidence," Hochstetter mentioned to Hogan, who was now seated in a hard chair placed directly under a light bulb. Two guards stood by the closed door, while Hochstetter propped himself up on the corner of the table and faced his prisoner.

"You have all the evidence, Major." Hogan replied. "I got a gun, shot Freitag. That's it. End of story." Trying to look bored, he turned his head and stared at the wall.

Hochstetter laughed. "We will be spending a great deal of time together, Hogan. And I'm looking forward to it. Berlin will, of course, be sending interrogators."

"Peachy." Hogan responded. "And that's Colonel Hogan, Major."

"Your rank will no longer get you any privileges!" Hochstetter yelled, realizing too late that Hogan had purposefully gotten a rise out of him. "I recommend you talk to me first. Oh, and that hotel room you mentioned. Where was it again? Cleveland? Ours will not be as pleasant."

Since he left the camp with Hochstetter and his entourage, Hogan had been treated professionally. There had been no abuse and no yelling. For some reason, he preferred the old, unhinged Hochstetter. It felt more normal. The major was circling Hogan's chair and prattling on. Hogan had tuned him out and was working through explanations and strategy in his head.

As Hogan was contemplating his not so pleasant future, Klink remained trapped, impatiently waiting for the Gestapo detail to finish their sweep of his office, while the coroner stood by. He thought back to Hochstetter's feeble attempt to interrogate Hogan about that project. Klink realized now that Hogan most likely knew more than he had let on. Why else would he commit suicide by shooting Freitag? And Hochstetter; how much did he know? The Kommandant was thinking too much and he was beginning to develop a headache. He only wished Hogan had talked to him first, like he had asked, and all of this could have been avoided. Klink quickly shoved that thought out of his mind. If this project was so important that the colonel would sacrifice himself to keep it a secret, it was too dangerous for Klink to lay his hands on. Too much information, he thought, was not healthy.

"Kommandant?" A Gestapo officer interrupted Klink's thoughts. "We need to question the men in the colonel's barracks, individually."

"I'll send a guard," Klink said.

"No." The officer stopped him. "Your office isn't available."

"There's a separate room in the barracks. The colonel's office."

"That'll do. We will also need to conduct a thorough search."

"I assure you," Klink groveled. "We conduct searches and there's nothing there."

"You obviously missed a gun!" The Gestapo agent retorted.

"This way." Klink pointed to the door.

Kinch and the other members of Hogan's senior staff had locked themselves in Hogan's office. "Kinch," Carter pressed the sergeant, "What did you mean when London said, 'They're confident the colonel won't talk?'"

"He's been trained, Carter," Newkirk offered. "'E can hold out."

"No. That's not good enough." Carter walked over to the other sergeant. "There's something you're not telling us. They're writing him off. Aren't they? He'll be shot. But before that he'll be questioned till he breaks."

"London, London," Kinch's voice broke. "London said it won't get that far." Kinch sat down.

"What?" Now both scared and outraged, the other three men expressed their distress and confusion.

"Kinch, they can't be serious!"

"Newkirk, keep your voice down! They said when he decided to kill Freitag; he knew he was going on a suicide mission."

"How?" Carter whispered. "Do they have a man in there?"

"I don't know, Carter. They didn't go into details."

"Those bastards. No rescue mission because that will look suspicious, but they're willing to kill the colonel…" Newkirk was interrupted by a knock. He opened the door.

"Brass heading this way," Olsen said.

Kinch turned to Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk. "Pull yourselves together," he ordered.

"This isn't over, Kinch," LeBeau warned.

One by one, everyone in the barracks was questioned while the common room was being torn upside down. Despite threats and accusations, nothing was divulged. The agents left with a promise of more interrogations to come.

"Sergeant Kinchloe." Klink had followed the Gestapo agents to the barracks and stood by during the entire ordeal.

Kinch, who was seated at Hogan's desk, looked up. He scrambled to his feet. "Yes, Sir."

"You're the acting prisoner's representative until a replacement is found."

"I understand, Sir. Request permission to call a meeting with the barracks chiefs to explain…"

"Granted. You may meet with them in the recreation hall in one hour. The guards will notify each barracks."

"Thank you, Sir."

Klink left the building without saying a word.

"Kinch, we didn't finish the last conversation." Lebeau reminded him.

"No," Kinch agreed. "We didn't."


	2. Chapter 2

_"No Way Out"_

_Chapter two_

"Why did you kill Freitag, Hogan?" Hochstetter had stopped circling the room and was now seated behind the table. A file folder lay open in front of him, and a jug of water and a glass sat within reach.

"He reneged on the dinner invitation," Hogan replied. Hochstetter silently signaled the guard. Hogan's wit was quickly rewarded by a blow to his midsection. The major watched, made a note in his file; then continued with the questioning.

"Freitag ordered me to question you about this Manhattan Project. He speaks with you privately, ends the meeting, and comes to camp to meet with you again, alone. He knew too much, didn't he? That's why you shot him."

Hogan, still trying to catch his breath, remained quiet.

"Which means, you must know what it is."

"I told you back in Klink's office, Hochstetter. I have no idea what you're talking about. How could I? I've been stuck…"

"Oh, you have the means. I'm convinced. And after I find out why you killed him, then I intend to find out what you know about the sabotage in this area, and the missing downed fliers."

"You're barking up the wrong tree, Major." Hogan pulled on the cuffs linking his arms around the back of the chair. This was a mistake, as the steel moved and began to tear into his flesh. He grimaced and attempted to shift his body to lessen the weight.

"I doubt it, Hogan. Now back to Freitag."

******

As Hogan was trying Hochstetter's patience by refusing to answer his questions and experiencing a close up look at a most unpleasant form of interrogation, Freitag's aide, Mannheim, was discovering how low on the totem pole he really was. Phone calls to various superiors in Berlin were unanswered or not returned, and personnel in Hammelburg ignored the now increasingly unhinged and resentful officer. His elation at Freitag's death was now ruined by this unforeseen snag and he headed back to his quarters that evening in a really foul mood.

Hochstetter, on the other hand, managed to keep his lack of progress with Hogan from consuming him and sent the battered colonel back to a freezing undersized cell, with threats to continue the ordeal in the morning. His delight at finally having the colonel in his grasp was only tempered by the knowledge that several members of the Gestapo high command were on their way from Berlin to investigate the murder. His fear was that they would order Hogan's execution before he could finally break his adversary and prove once and for all his theory that the colonel was an underground operative.

By coincidence, Hochstetter and Mannheim came across each other in the corridor outside the interrogation room.

Mannheim stopped. "Major. How is the interrogation going?" He asked, only because he had to say something.

"He has divulged nothing, except some witty comebacks, which is what I expected during our first session. I'll continue tomorrow. After a night in that cell and the pain from our beatings…"

"Major," Mannheim, now becoming more interested, interrupted. "If you fill me in on what this colonel and Gruppenführer Freitag were discussing, I can be of assistance. If the prisoner already knows he will be executed, other methods may prove to be more successful. I have experience…"

"Bah." Hochstetter waved him off. "Hogan is mine. I know what I'm doing." He looked at Mannheim with disdain. "Besides, Freitag must've had a reason for not confiding in you."

Mannheim had no response to this insult, except to turn on his heels and head out.

"Wait." Hochstetter stopped the aide. "There is something you can do for me."

"What is that, Major?" Mannheim said eagerly.

"Take these files back to the record room."

*****

  
"Klink!"

The Kommandant's hand shook as he held the phone away from his ear. "Yes, General Burkhalter?"

"I heard what happened. I will be there first thing tomorrow morning."

"Yes, General ." I'm doomed, Klink thought as he hung up the phone.

******

After Kinch spoke with the barracks chiefs, warning them to be ready for anything, he met with the rest of the staff in Hogan's office. "We blow our cover," Kinch insisted, "and we'll have to shut down."

"How about we go in as Abwehr?" Carter suggested.

Kinch immediately turned that down. "They've been purged. Remember? The Gestapo would laugh in our faces."

"Make fake orders to send him to Berlin, and then ambush the car." LeBeau said. "Not foolproof, but it may work if we make it look like a normal Underground ambush. Just their luck that they managed to rescue a prisoner."

"Not bad," Kinch agreed. "Of course, we'll be court-martialed for disobeying orders," he reminded everyone. "And we can't shut down without London's okay. We need their help to get everyone out."

"We won't 'ave to shut down. Just send Colonel Hogan home and that's it. Once we 'ave 'im, London will 'ave to take 'im."

"What if he finds out we disobeyed orders, Newkirk?" Kinch was playing devil's advocate.

"We don't tell 'im," was Newkirk's reply.

"That's if the plan works." LeBeau stood up, retrieved a map and laid it out on the table.

"Hold on." Newkirk stopped him. "We don't even have the fake orders yet."

"He'll find out," Carter said softly. "And then what?"

The ramifications of what they were considering, hit the team, hard. The chances of the plan even succeeding were at best, slight, and then came the question of Hogan's reaction. Of course, he would be relieved to be alive. Obviously. But then what? Their loyalty to their leader would not be questioned. But what about their loyalty to Allied Command? And a rescue attempt might still cast suspicion on the Underground, causing possible repercussions in the area, and the camp. Hochstetter's involvement made things even more difficult.

A knock at the door broke the tension. "Yes?" Kinch said.

"Sorry, Sergeant, but we heard on the phone tap that Burkhalter is showing up tomorrow morning. And he sounded really angry."

"Thanks, Saunders. Another thing we don't need."

The four men then made the hardest decision they had ever made in their entire lives. They decided to table the rescue attempt for the time being. Knowing Colonel Hogan as well as they did, and fully aware that he knew when he had left the barracks that he was heading out on a suicide mission, they decided to obey London's orders, for now. It was at that moment, that Kinch realized that the colonel had not entirely planned out the scenario.

"Guys?" He stopped them before they left the room. "There's another problem."

"What's that, Kinch?" The men were tired, dejected and stressed.

"Hochstetter knows about the Manhattan Project."

"And so does Klink." Carter pointed out.

"Exactly," Kinch replied. "I'm not worried about Klink, but Hochstetter has got to assume that's why the colonel shot Freitag. I've got to call London." He headed for the tunnel.

"This could mean a change in plans," LeBeau said hopefully.

******

Hogan spent a sleepless night in pain, and shivering from the cold. He could not make himself comfortable in the cell; which, as Hochstetter had said, was the point.

Mannheim, as well, did not sleep. Angry and paranoid, he now turned his hatred towards Hochstetter.

******

Burkhalter was in Klink's face, bright and early the next morning. "So Klink, in one evening, in your stalag, a prisoner shot and killed a German officer; a prisoner who just happened to be one of the Luftwaffe's prized possessions."

"Yes, General." Klink swallowed hard. He was already packing winter clothing in his head. "Hogan said he got the gun from a guard, who has since deserted. We had some desert a while back. It was in my report."

"I'm fully aware of that. Hogan's story makes sense. But why shoot Freitag?"

"I don't know, General." Klink put his head in his hands. "It may have had something to do with Hogan's old bomber group being reassigned. That's what Hochstetter was questioning him about." He decided on the spur of the moment, not to mention the project to the general. It would just mean more questions he did not feel like answering, and possibly more meetings with the Gestapo.

"I'm sure the general staff was made aware of that intelligence, but redeployment is not unusual." Burkhalter shook his head. "There's got to be another reason. Keep me informed, Klink. I'll need to keep tabs on this. Let me know if you hear from Major Hochstetter." Burkhalter got up to leave.

"You're leaving? I thought…"

"You would be on the next train to the Russian front? As much as I'd like to see you leave, Klink, your record has been noticed. And the prisoners may become agitated."

******

That morning, as an Allied agent operating out of another location in Germany began making his way towards Hammelburg, Kinch and the rest of Hogan's team were awaiting a decision from London on what to do about Hochstetter. The men huddled around the sergeant as the call came in. Kinch turned off the radio and put down the headset.

"Unbelievable," he said.

"What? What did they say? Are we going in?" Newkirk was desperate for revenge.

"No, not yet." Kinch stood up and yawned. He had spent a sleepless night and it showed. "They don't want to draw any more attention to this Manhattan Project. If Hochstetter mentioned it to even one other official, killing him would just draw suspicion. Action is on hold for now. We're to keep them informed."

"Bloody 'ell." Newkirk slammed his hand against the wall in frustration.

"I say let's plan a rescue; before their man gets there and it's too late!"LeBeau demanded.

"I'm with Louis," Newkirk said. "Now that I've 'ad some time to think things over."

"Hold it. Forget about disobeying orders for a minute. Listen, if we're caught, the operation is exposed. Hochstetter has seen all of us, and like it or not, he's not as stupid as Klink. There's the rest the men in camp to consider."

"Right now, Kinch, the rest of the men in camp are waiting for the word that the colonel has been executed. What do you think their reaction will be if they find out London is sending an agent to beat the Krauts to it?" Carter was trying to control his temper, but his anger was beginning to show.

"Carter, angry would be an understatement," Kinch said softly. "Look, we made our decision last night. But, I'm willing to see if we can come up with a good alternative."

Now feeling that they had been given a new purpose, the four men huddled together and began to plan.


	3. Chapter 3

_"No Way Out"_

_Chapter three_

"Red herring."

"What did you say, Hogan?" Hochstetter leaned forward in his chair. He had barely heard the two words that had escaped the colonel's lips.

"It's a red herring. The project." Hogan had endured several days of intense interrogation and torture, interspersed with unbearable conditions in his cell, and lack of food and water. He had so far divulged nothing. But Hochstetter, although frustrated, was still optimistic and he assured the brass from Berlin that their patience would be rewarded. Now something had slipped through. Unfortunately, he didn't understand the English colloquialism.

"Guard. Unstrap his arms. Hogan, what you mean red herring? Here," The major poured a glass of water and handed it to the colonel.

Hogan, his hand shaking, took a sip. "What?"

Now that Hogan had finally spoken, Hochstetter changed his tactics and took on a gentler tone.

"Can you explain what you meant by a red herring? Is that the Manhattan project?"

"Yes," Hogan replied.

"Tell me," Hochstetter urged. "And I'll have you moved into a normal cell."

"The name," Hogan said slowly. "I knew. The project. Doesn't exist. It's a red herring. I've known that for years."

"There is no Manhattan project?"

Hogan shook his head. "The Allies wouldn't allow anything that important to leak out, if it was real. It doesn't exist. It's made up; to send you on a wild goose chase. We've done it before; the landings." (1)

"Deliberately leaked out false information?"

Hogan nodded.

Hochstetter stepped back and observed his subject. He was a bit surprised at how quickly the American had deteriorated, and vowed to be more careful. It would not do to have Hogan die before his execution. And there were still two unanswered questions. If the Manhattan project did not exist, why did Hogan shoot Freitag, and what was Hogan's connection to the Underground?

"All right, Hogan. If there is no Manhattan project, as you say, why did you kill the Gruppenführer? Damn!" The colonel had either passed out in the chair or dozed off. Hochstetter ordered the guards to take the colonel to a regular cell. The guard released Hogan's straps. The movement roused the colonel, who stared glassy-eyed for a moment at Hochstetter.

"Is that it?" Hogan asked.

"For now. We made some progress. The guard will put you into a regular cell." Hochstetter went over to the desk and picked up the phone. He never noticed the slight grin that appeared on the colonel's face as he left the room with the guard.

*****

While Hochstetter was reporting to his superiors that he felt Hogan was beginning to break, the colonel attempted to get comfortable in his new cell. His condition was bad, but not as dire as Hochstetter thought. The penultimate master of spin was still coming up with ways to fool his captors. Although, Hogan mused, explaining Freitag's murder would take a great deal of thought and effort on his part. He figured he had at least a few hours before Hochstetter would call for him again. Hopefully, his lie would satisfy the major and forestall additional brutality for the time being. He now had to continue to work on a rational explanation for shooting Freitag. Otherwise, the Manhattan project would come back into the picture.

The breakthrough in Hogan's questioning gave Hochstetter more breathing room, as the brass in Berlin agreed to hold off the colonel's execution for the time being. He was planning his next move, when the phone rang.

*****

Klink, who was finally able to return to his office, had been exonerated by the Gestapo. Burkhalter and Hochstetter were aware of both Hogan's intelligence and Klink's stupidity, and had no problem believing that the colonel had managed to get hold of a weapon. Klink's perfect record, as usual, prevented him from being transferred. Klink sat at his desk and recalled the several near catastrophes that had failed to materialize due to Hogan's interference. He sighed. As the Kommandant, he had a duty to perform. He had not yet heard anything from Gestapo headquarters, so he picked up the phone.

"Major Hochstetter. I asked to be kept informed."

"I don't remember agreeing to update you, Klink," Hochstetter snarled into the phone.

"Yes, well, Major. I need to notify the Red Cross."

"Hogan is still being questioned," Hochstetter barked.

For three days? Klink shuddered at the thought and then attempted to put the horrific images aside. "Did he tell you anything?"

"We made some progress," Hochstetter said impatiently. He then decided to get Klink off his back.

"That project, Klink, may not exist. It's a deliberate leak. Nothing on Freitag. That's all."

"Major, please."

Hochstetter sighed. "I'll have someone inform you," he said and then hung up the phone.

*****

"Colonel Hogan! He's still alive!"The men had set up a 24 hour phone tap and Garth, who had been listening, quickly headed up top to relay the news. "It seems he fooled Hochstetter into thinking the project doesn't exist," he told the men. "Something about a deliberate leak. Nothing yet on Freitag. That's it. Klink's waiting for the word, so he can notify the Red Cross."

"I have to call London." Kinch headed for the tunnel.

"It's been too long. He can't hold out much longer. Try to talk some sense into them," Carter pleaded.

"The man they sent. He could be there by now," LeBeau reminded everyone.

The men had previously discarded every plan as unworkable. Olsen and another German -speaking prisoner, who had never been seen by Hochstetter, volunteered to go into headquarters and stage a rescue, but the key problem remained. Any attempt would lead back to suspicion of Underground contact or worse; back to the operation at the camp. A mass attack or a bombing would likely kill the colonel and other prisoners.

So the men decided their only option was to send in reconnaissance to check out the security, and hopefully, to try to see the colonel.

"Don't make waves. Don't give them a reason to involve Hochstetter. If you can't get in to see him, get out." Kinch and Carter had given Olsen and Foster last minute instructions.

The two, disguised as Wehrmacht, entered Gestapo headquarters.

"We understand you are holding an American prisoner," Olsen looked down at the fake orders he had carried with him. "A Colonel Hogan. We wish to question him."

"Holding cells are two flights down." The desk officer pointed to the stairs. "Check with the officer on duty and he can direct you."

Olsen and Foster thanked the officer, headed for the stairs and presented themselves to the officer of the day, who was seated at the desk outside the holding area. Olsen stole a quick glance down the hallway and counted the guards. Two were posted outside one cell, while three were constantly walking through the corridor.

"No one is allowed to see or question Colonel Hogan without specific authorization from Major Hochstetter." The Gestapo officer handed the written orders back to Olsen.

"We heard he may be questioned regarding sabotage activity in the area. We have had several of our convoys attacked and thought it might be prudent to interrogate the prisoner before it is too late."

"I can't let you through. You'll have to contact the Major's office."

"Very well," Olsen said. "Where can we find Major Hochstetter?"

"Go back upstairs. The officer on duty will contact him for you."

"Thank you." Olsen and Foster left the holding area, went up two flights and quickly left the building. Once they were back in the truck Kinch had borrowed from the motor pool, they finally had time to breathe.

"Not good," Foster, who was driving, said.

Olsen was visibly upset. "No, no. It's not. But, I'm not surprised."

*******

They returned the truck, reported back to Barracks two, and explained what they had discovered.

"Guards outside the cell. Guards patrolling the hall. We were stopped by a goon at the desk." Olsen threw his cap across the room and onto the bunk, in frustration.

******

Jim Bender, the Allied agent, arrived in Hammelburg as ordered, and ran into the same brick wall as Hogan's men. He, too, left the building and retreated to his hotel room. Bender had been told to make it appear the colonel had died of natural causes, but if he couldn't get close enough, his mission would fail. He had no idea why he was sent to kill the American, although he had been assured the colonel was not a traitor. In fact, the general confirming the orders seemed genuinely sorry. He rightly assumed that the colonel had important information that could not be divulged at any cost.

The guard opened the door to the colonel's cell a few inches and placed a bowl of soup, spoon and drinking water onto the floor. Hogan, who was sitting on the bench attached to the wall, ignored the food.

"Eat it," the guard ordered, "Otherwise, we have orders to force feed you." Hogan stared at the guard, then slowly got up and grabbed the bowl. Satisfied, the guard closed the door. Realizing he needed to keep up his strength if he was to withstand further punishment and not break, the colonel ate. The guards returned a short while later and removed him for more questioning. Hogan steadied himself mentally for more punishment.

"You did well the last time we met, Hogan." This time Hochstetter was joined by another officer. Someone from Berlin, Hogan surmised. "I heard you ate. That's good. It appears word of your arrest has leaked out to both the Wehrmacht and the SS. Two Wehrmacht officers and one SS officer expressed interest in questioning you about certain activities. "

"Nice to know I'm wanted," Hogan briefly wondered if the Wehrmacht officers were two of his men. A flicker of hope passed through his mind. Not for him, but for the rest of the prisoners. It would mean the operation was still running.

Hochstetter ignored the colonel's quip. "Let's see how we do in this session and perhaps I can give you something for your pain."

The Major's offer was premature. After several hours, the colonel refused to answer a single question about the shooting or the sabotage, thus embarrassing Hochstetter in front of one of his superiors and enraging the Gestapo agent. The colonel paid a steep price for his silence, and he was dragged back to his cell and dumped, unconscious, on the floor.

Bender, still determined to somehow complete his mission, called for backup. He figured the best way to get close to Hogan was to have a legitimate reason to be down in the holding area. With another agent pretending to be his prisoner, he planned on processing his accomplice, spending time questioning him and attempting to get close to the American, possibly during a transfer. He would then get his "prisoner" released and the two would disappear.

Mannheim, having been relegated to a waiting for a new posting, was kept occupied by interviewing and processing other prisoners caught up in daily sweeps; a position he found beneath him. He was returning from questioning a suspect, when he witnessed Hogan's return to the cell block. Judging from his condition, it was obvious the session with Hochstetter had not gone well; an outcome that made him feel smug and vindicated, since he had heard through the grapevine that Hogan had started to talk. Having nothing better to do, and his curiosity now piqued, Mannheim decided to make one final attempt at offering Hochstetter his services.

"Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?"

Mannheim stood face to face with Hochstetter in the major's office. He had once again attempted diplomatically to offer his advice or services, bringing up examples of his successful interrogations of similar subjects.

"No. No, Major," the aide stuttered. "It's just that, before I get reassigned, I can, I can…" He drew himself up to his full height, towering over the major. "I deserve to know what is going on, and I deserve to interrogate Colonel Hogan. I was Freitag's second and I've had experience in dealing with subjects similar to Colonel Hogan!"

Mannheim knew that Frietag was correct about one thing; his usual methods of interrogation would not work on the highly trained pilot. There was no doubt that Hogan was a strong subject, and that he had most likely undergone extensive training in withstanding interrogation before he even took command of his unit. But Mannheim also knew that Freitag had taken no interest in his career, or what he did when he was not being sent on preposterous errands, picking up uniforms from the cleaners, or parking cars. The aide had other tricks up his sleeve.

Confident in his newfound strength, Mannheim stood his ground and waited.

"Hogan is mine." Hochstetter said slowly. "I've been after him for two years, and now that I have him under my control and not under that ridiculous Luftwaffe protection, he will admit to the sabotage. He will break. On my terms. Now get out of my sight. This is my jurisdiction!"

"You'll regret this, Major." Mannheim, steamed, left without a word.

"Bah!" Hochstetter ignored the threat.

Hogan's eyes opened, shut, then opened again. He attempted to roll over and get up, but failed. His breathing was shallow and painful and his head felt like it was about to explode. He somehow managed to crawl over to the wall and with tremendous effort, pulled himself up onto the bench. Leaning his head against the wall, he took stock of his situation. The old Hochstetter had returned and it wasn't pretty. He knew he had to give something up about the shooting, eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) "'Fortitude'was the codename given to the decoy (or disinformation) mission mounted by the Allies to deceive the Germans about the date and above all the place of the landings. The latter were convinced that the British and American attack would come in the Pas-de-Calais area and it was important not to disillusion them. They therefore had to be made to think that a whole group of armies was present in Kent, opposite the Pas-de-Calais." (from Normandiememoiredotcom)


	4. Chapter 4

_"No Way Out"_

_Chapter 4_

Bender waited until nighttime and a shift change to return to headquarters. Dressed as Gestapo, he introduced himself as an agent from Hamburg that needed a cell to hold a prisoner for the evening. His plan worked and he was able to check in his accomplice and have him placed in a cell. He then took a break and moseyed over to the desk officer. Offering him a cigarette, he asked, "What's with the extra guards?"

"Special prisoner. An American POW."

"Hmph. a POW?" Bender laughed. "Must've made some enemies."

"Our chief has been after him for two years." The desk officer lowered his voice. "Bit obsessed, if you ask me."

Bender stubbed out his cigarette. "Well, I've got other fish to fry." He headed back towards his associate's cell, had it opened, and walked in.

"It's clean," the other man, a German underground operative named Neumann, who had been recruited from another area, reported. "Checked everywhere."

"Great." Bender removed his jacket and slit open the lining, removing a syringe. "Man, I don't feel too good about this."

"You're probably doing him a favor at this point," Neumann pointed out.

"If I can get close. This won't be easy."

"Just make sure we can get out of here," he replied.

"Hold it." There was movement down the hall. The guards were removing Hogan for more questioning. Bender stepped out and watched, observing the prisoner and the security. He slipped back in. "Tightly guarded. Looks in bad shape. I'll have to plan this just right."

"It could be hours before they bring him back," Neumann said. "Might as well get comfortable."

*****

"Let's return to the 504th , Hogan. You commanded the 504th."

"That's no secret." Hogan, who was now standing with his arms attached to restraints hanging from the ceiling, had not slept in several days. His thinking processes had slowed and the pain from the torture he had endured was close to unbearable. The fear that he would accidentally reveal something was growing.

Hochstetter smiled. "True. They were moved, reassigned, or so Freitag had heard. Why? If this Manhattan project does not exist. Why?"

"How should I know? I was in a prison camp. Little difficult to monitor movements."

"I don't believe that, Hogan. But we'll get to that later. If this project doesn't exist, why did you shoot Freitag?" Hochstetter motioned for the guard, who had gleefully been doing the major's dirty work. The guard moved towards the colonel.

"You haven't been too cooperative, Hogan. Make it easier on yourself. Answer and I'll have you put out of your misery."

Hogan glanced at the guard. "I…"

"Go on." Hochstetter urged him.

"No."

The major sighed. As much as he enjoyed torturing Hogan, he needed answers. Berlin was losing patience. He nodded at the guard. A short time later, he tried again.

"Tell me, Hogan. The 504th. Do you remember?"

"504th?"

"He said he learned they were redeployed," Hochstetter reminded him.

Hogan tried to think, not an easy feat in his condition. "Bomber groups can be redeployed," he finally said. "That's normal."

"Continue," Hochstetter now encouraged, stepped closer.

"Training, staffing, replacements. Sometimes," Hogan continued, "For a break, different action. Pacific?"

"But this project," Hochstetter was beginning to get aggravated.

"I told you, it doesn't exist," Hogan insisted.

Hochstetter spoke very slowly. "Then why did you shoot him? Tell me, Hogan."

The colonel shook his head. "No, I can't."

"Can't or won't, Hogan?" Again, Hochstetter nodded at the guard. Hogan, who was hoping to pass out, was desperately trying to think of an answer. In all the time he was alone in the cell, he had not come up with a logical explanation.

"Give me an answer, Hogan, and I'll stop the guard."

"Threats." Hogan whispered. "Frietag…"

"Threats against who? You?"

"Camp. All of them." Hogan started his spin. Where he found the strength to continue, he did not know.

"I don't understand. Explain." Hochstetter demanded.

"Can't talk. Thirsty."

Hochstetter picked up a glass of water. "Here." He held the water glass up to Hogan lips and waited while the colonel took a few sips.

"He didn't believe me when I told them there was no project. No matter what I said. He told me if I didn't give him the information, he would take it out on the prisoners in the camp."

"Your staff?" Hochstetter asked.

"No. All of them."

"You believed him?" Hochstetter was having a hard time trusting the story. On the other hand, he knew full well that Hogan was a good commander and was well respected. He repeated the question.

"Yes," Hogan answered. "Too high up. Can overrule Burkhalter."

Why would Hogan let it slip that the threats against his men would lead him to do what he did? It was an open invitation to exploitation.

"Oh, God."

Hogan's moans drew Hochstetter's attention. He was holding back all this time, the major thought. Because he was afraid to admit it. His men were more important than his life. A dangerous revelation to give to an enemy. Hochstetter had no interest in the rank and file at Stalag 13. He suspected Hogan's staff was privy to some of what was going on. But Hogan was his quarry and he had him right where he wanted.

"Take him down," he ordered the guard. "You did well, Colonel. Now I can make a report to Berlin. But we're not done. There's your involvement in the sabotage ring operating out of Hammelburg."

"I'm not involved," Hogan blurted out. "You've got what you wanted. Just get it over with."

"Take him to his cell." Hochstetter needed one more day and he was sure Hogan would completely break. With Freitag's murder now solved, he would convince Berlin to give him some time before Hogan was put before a firing squad.

*****

Mannheim had always wanted to kill his boss. But he never had the guts to fulfill his fantasy. He now wanted Hochstetter dead. He had taken enough humiliation and abuse at the hands of both his superiors and fellow agents. But wishing a man dead was different from actually killing him. After all, he was a coward, and he didn't want to get caught. Besides, death was too good for the major. No, Mannheim thought. There has to be a better way to punish Hochstetter. Take something away. Something the major valued. Something precious. And within seconds, Mannheim knew what that was. Now that he had a sense of purpose, his spirits lifted and he set out to make preparations


	5. Chapter 5

_"No Way Out"_

_Chapter 5_

A pall hung over Stalag 13. Hogan's team was coming to grips that there was no way out of the situation. Every scenario they had come up with had little chance of success and possible fatal ramifications. Communications with London were terse and tense. Meanwhile, the manipulation necessary to assign a new commanding officer to Stalag 13 was set in motion and the men were told to expect the new arrival within a few weeks.

The rest of the prisoners in camp were coping with a lot of unanswered questions, and some were becoming resentful of being kept out of the loop. Despite being on the sidelines, most had a fierce loyalty to both Hogan and the operation, and the barrack's chiefs were being bombarded with one main question. Why was there no rescue attempt? Kinch was left waiting for word from Klink that Hogan had been executed or had died in captivity, and then he and his team would begin the heartbreaking task of sorting and packing the colonel's personal items.

Klink informed Kinch that while the colonel's body would not be returned, he would see to it that the Red Cross was informed of his death and that the boxes containing his personal effects would be picked up and somehow delivered to the Allies.

*****

"I thought you were getting a room for the night." The desk sergeant and Bender were taking another cigarette break.

"No. We're making some progress. The guy likes to talk."

"Well, there's a cot around the corner there, if you need to sack out."

"Thanks."

The phone rang and the sergeant excused himself. "Yeah. I understand, Major." He walked down the corridor and opened up a cell. "Our star prisoner's on his way back," he remarked a few moments later.

"The POW? So tell me. What did they say he did?"

The sergeant leaned over. "Oh, he did it. Killed Gruppenführer Freitag. Shot him over at Stalag 13."

Must've had a good reason. "So, why has your chief been obsessed with this guy?"

"Thinks he's involved with the sabotage around here. Here he comes."

Bender reached into his pocket, hoping he could get close enough to Hogan to inject him with the serum, but the colonel was too closely guarded. Thwarted again, he returned to the cell and conferred with his colleague. "He looks half- dead," he reported. "I couldn't get anywhere near him. But I did find out he shot and killed a high-ranking Gestapo officer named Freitag over at Stalag 13."

"13?" Neumann started pacing, and suddenly stopped. "I think I know who this Colonel Hogan is! If I'm right, we've got to get him out of here!"

"What are you talking about?"

"There's a big Underground operation going on in this area, Bender. Escaped prisoners, downed fliers, sabotage, most of it funnels through Stalag 13. That man… He must be the leader. I'm sure of it."

"If he talks…"

"It can bring down hundreds," Neumann said. "Plus, kill the operation and every prisoner in that camp. We make one wrong move; we're all dead and they'll think the Underground is involved."

"But I can't even get close enough to him to stick him with the needle," Bender countered.

"I know a few members of the Underground from this area. They would risk their lives to save this guy."

"I don't think we can save him. Look. He knew he was dead as soon as he pulled the trigger." Bender was now having second thoughts. But, he knew he had to follow his original orders.

"I know, I know." The Underground agent was now getting upset. "Let's think this over."

"I have to get into that cell." Bender said firmly.

*****

Hogan, who had been dumped on the floor, was now too weak and in too much pain to move. He thought back to his last session and tried to recall what he had said. Something about redeployments, threats against his men, and finally, a reason to kill Freitag. Hogan was pretty sure Hochstetter cared more about him and his clandestine activities than Freitag. At least that's what he hoped. It would take Hochstetter's mind off the project. But, he may have made matters worse by admitting that the threats worked. Would Hochstetter go after the men in camp? Hogan couldn't bear to think of the answer.

The Gestapo major was happily preparing his final report about the shooting and was looking forward to continuing his investigation by questioning Hogan about the sabotage, the Underground movement, the lack of captured fliers and disappearing escaped prisoners. Two years of his suspicions and reports being ignored, and now it was time. He could not wait.

Mannheim obtained what he needed and made his way down to the cell block to fulfill his mission, stopping at the desk to sign in. "Ahem." The desk officer was chatting with another agent, one Mannheim didn't recognize.

"Sorry, Sir." He snapped to attention.

"I see our star prisoner has been brought back," Mannheim said nonchalantly as he signed the book.

"Yes, Sir. Several minutes ago. Whom do you wish to see?"

"Berger." Mannheim answered.

"I see they've got an American POW here. You know him, by any chance?" The other agent asked. The man's interest inflated Mannheim's ego.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I was there when he shot Gruppenführer Freitag."

"Really?" Bender moved away from the desk. "So," he said. "Why did he do it?"

Mannheim's face clouded; a fact that did not go unnoticed.

"That is classified," he replied.

He doesn't know. "No problem. I understand. So, you were there. You're going to question him, then?"

"No," Mannheim said quietly. He glanced down the hall and saw the two guards that were still outside Hogan's cell. "No," he said in a louder voice. He slammed his hand on the desk, startling both the desk officer and the Allied agent. "Only Hochstetter can question our star prisoner," Mannheim answered sarcastically.

This man is a walking time bomb, Bender thought.

Mannheim turned; then walked away. "I'll go see Berger now."

Bender, curious, followed Mannheim.

The Gestapo agent passed the cell that held Berger and stopped in front of Hogan's cell. He faced the guards. "Open the door," he ordered. "I need to check on the American's condition."

"Sorry, Sir," one of the guards said politely. "We have orders not to let anyone in."

"Hochstetter wants me to check on his condition. If he dies before he can be questioned tomorrow, we'll be in big trouble." This seemed to be somewhat convincing and the guard was hesitating. "Look. You can bother the major and ask," Mannheim said. "I'll wait."

"Well, I don't know."

Bender was watching this with interest. He quickly went back to his friend's cell and got a passing guard to open the door. He walked in. "Something's going on. I may be able to make my move soon. We've got to leave this door unlocked."

"Can't," Neumann said. "It locks as soon as it shuts."

"Here. Prop it open with this." Bender handed the agent his wallet. "Be ready," he warned Neumann.

*****

"Tell you what," Mannheim addressed the guard. "One of you can come in with me. I just need to check and see if he needs a medic. It'll just take a minute."

The guards relented. One of them opened the door and stepped in after Mannheim.

Seeing this, Bender stepped closer to the cell.

Hogan was still on the ground, holding his side, trying unsuccessfully to stave off the pain from a cracked rib. Burns on his hands and back were blistering and throbbing. His head was pounding, and waves of dizziness and nausea, probably from a concussion, were hitting his body. He let out a soft moan; then turned at the sound of the men walking into the cell.

Mannheim knelt down beside the colonel.

"Colonel Hogan?" Hogan didn't answer. Mannheim tried again. "Colonel Hogan?" The aide gently shook Hogan's shoulder. "I'm just here to check you over."

"Why?" Hogan coughed and shut his eyes.

"Because you have to be well enough for tomorrow's interrogation. Hochstetter's orders." Mannheim looked at the guard, who nodded. He then whispered in Hogan's ear. "You did me a favor, Colonel. Now I'll do you a favor." He put something into Hogan's hand and balled it up into a fist. "If you think the past few days were bad, Colonel," he continued in a normal voice. "Tomorrow will be hell. Major Hochstetter promises to get a confession from you for all of the sabotage, among other things. Well," he stood up. "He'll make it until morning," he said to the guard, "No need to call the medic."

"Jawohl," the guard replied. Mannheim smiled and walked away. Hogan opened his hand and stared at the capsule Mannheim had placed in there. He closed his fist and rolled onto his back.

*****

Realizing he could use Mannheim's unlawful entry as a way to get into the cell, Bender high-tailed it over to the desk.

"That agent that was here!"

"Mannheim?"

"He didn't go to see his prisoner!"

"Berger?"

"Yes. Yes. He got into the cell."

"Whose?"

"The American's."

"Oh my god! Hochstetter will have my head!" The desk officer, with Bender trailing right behind him, rushed down the hall. "You two let someone in! Your orders were to let no one in!" The sergeant screamed at the guards.

"He needed to check on the prisoner's condition. I went in with him."

"Open the door!"

"But Major Hochstetter…"

"Open the door!"

The guard complied. The desk officer, Bender and the two guards rushed into the cell.

Hogan was dead.

Bender knelt down beside the body, and then looked up. "Cyanide."

"Call upstairs. Tell them to stop Mannheim before he leaves the building. I've got to call Major Hochstetter. Someone's head is going to roll for this." The sergeant left the cell and hurried over to the telephone.

*****

Hochstetter had been putting the finishing touches on his report, and was contemplating whether to sleep in his office or go home, when his phone rang.

"Hochstetter, here."

"We need you in the cell block, immediately, Major."

"On my way." Anxiety gripped the Gestapo chief as he rushed downstairs. He hurried over to Hogan's cell, where the two guards, the desk officer, and Bender were waiting.

"He's dead, Sir."

Hochstetter ran inside and stared, dumbfounded, at the body on the floor. "His injuries, they couldn't have…"

"Cyanide, Major. Look."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Captain Schneider. On my way to Hamburg with a prisoner."

"He witnessed Mannheim going in, Sir. He notified me immediately of the security breach. We checked right away. Mannheim slipped the prisoner the cyanide. I alerted the guard upstairs to stop him."

"If you'll excuse me, I think under the circumstances, I should take my prisoner and go."

"Yes, Schneider. Whatever. Go." Hochstetter's blood was boiling. "Find Mannheim. Tear apart the building. Tear apart the city, if you have to. And you two," he looked at the two terrified guards, "I'll deal with you later."

"Excuse me." Another guard came by. "Mannheim has been caught trying to leave the building."

"Bring him down," Hochstetter growled.

*****

Bender quickly made his way back to the cell holding Neumann. "Here, put these cuffs on. We've got to get out of here."

"What happened?"

"Tell you when we're clear." They quickly walked upstairs, exited the building and got into the car. Once they left the area they started to talk.

"Someone did our job for us," Bender declared, a bit sadly.

"So he's dead?"

"Yes. I'm sorry." An uncomfortable silence filled the car.

"How?"

"A Nazi whack job, mad at his superiors, slipped the colonel some cyanide and he took it. One good thing; no one will suspect the Underground."

The Underground agent shook his head. "Once word gets out, there will be a lot of very upset people. Ever find out why he killed Freitag?"

"Nope. Do you think his operation will continue?"

"I have no idea. I wasn't directly involved."

The car came to a stop in a secluded area located outside town. Bender opened a hidden compartment and removed a radio. He contacted London and reported a successful mission. "I'll give them the details when I get there," he said.

*****

Mannheim, although caught, still had a self-satisfied smirk on his face when he was brought downstairs. Upon seeing the man who had ruined his attempt to finally prove that Hogan was the mastermind of the area sabotage and Underground operation, Hochstetter lost it.

"You fool! You ruined everything I have worked for! Everything! I had him! He would have broken!" He lunged at the guilty officer, knocking him down. The guards had to pry them apart.

"You should have accepted my help when I offered it," Mannheim said calmly. "You and that despicable Freitag. No one appreciated my talents. No one. He paid, and so should you."

He's nuts, Hochstetter realized. He pulled out his gun and shot Mannheim squarely in the chest. "Self defense," he declared as he put the gun back in his holster. "How am I going to explain this to Berlin?"

Berlin didn't care. They were satisfied with Hochstetter's report on the murder, and were not the least bit interested in Hochstetter's ranting about Hogan's part in the area sabotage. The major was left fuming


	6. Chapter 6

_"No Way Out"_

_Chapter 6_

Sergeants Wilson and McMahon, and the chaplain, walked across the compound together. It was still light out, and prisoners were milling about, doing laundry, tossing baseballs, or staring at the guard towers, but the atmosphere had changed. It was clear, even to an uninformed observer, that the camp population was tense. The three stopped in front of Barracks two. Wilson knocked and waited. A prisoner opened the door and the three walked in.

"Kinch here?" Wilson asked.

"In the colonel's office." Carter walked over. "Go ahead, knock."

"Come in." Kinch looked up from the paperwork he was reading. He wondered how the colonel had been able to handle running the operation and his duties as senior officer at the same time. The men walked into the room. McMahon closed the door behind him.

Wilson spoke first. "Kinch, we need to talk."

"Okay. Sit down."

Wilson remained standing. "Listen, I'll come right to the point. Morale is bad. The camp is a powder keg."

"I'm still waiting for word."

"About the new C.O.?" The medic asked.

"No." Kinch turned and looked out the window. "No. London's working on that. He should be here in a few weeks, I think. I mean about the colonel."

McMahon, who was representing the barrack's chiefs, turned and faced the other sergeant.

"Kinch. All we know is that he killed that Gestapo officer. We don't know why, or what else he knew. He knew more than just the operation."

"I can't tell you…"

"That's how it always is, isn't it?" McMahon raised his voice. "Well, now the men are getting fed up. They're scared. Upset. You guys here are always in the loop."

"Sergeant, settle down," the chaplain urged. "It's not Kinch's fault."

"The men are kept out of the loop for their own protection," Kinch snapped. "You know that."

"Sorry, I know." The meteorologist grabbed a chair. "Look. There's something else. A lot of the men are wondering why no rescue was attempted. You've done it before."

"Because it would have blown our cover. When we got Newkirk out of there the one time, they didn't know he was a prisoner. (1) And… We sent in reconnaissance. There was no safe way."

"We didn't know about the reconnaissance. Maybe if we pass it along on the sly, it might mean something." The chaplain suggested.

"That's fine," Kinch said. "There's one other thing," he added. "Just between us. London gave us orders not to go in. We had to let him go." He almost choked on the last sentence.

"My god." Wilson was stunned. "You've all been living with this since this happened?"

"Yes. And it's been hell."

"But the reconnaissance mission?" McMahon pointed out.

"Direct violation of orders," Kinch explained. "Olsen and Foster went. I take full responsibility, and would have, if we could have pulled something off."

"Somehow, I doubt that you would have been the only one to take the fall," the chaplain added.

Kinch smiled. "You're right. The others had a lot to do with it. But the situation was impossible, like I said." Kinch, not wanting to show the others his eyes were tearing, looked down at the floor. "It's been so tense around here. Arguments over what to do. Realizing we were helpless; and one more thing I'm not saying."

"And now, the waiting. And it all fell on you." McMahon approached the sergeant.

"Not just in the barracks; especially Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau." Kinch took a breath. "I'm waiting for word from Klink and then we have to pack his stuff. Klink says he will send it to the Red Cross. Look, I appreciate you coming by."

"We can talk to the chiefs, if you want," Wilson offered.

Kinch turned down the offer. "It's my responsibility and the atmosphere could still get dangerous. Call a meeting. Tomorrow morning in the tunnels; right after roll call. "

*****

"Get rid of this." Hochstetter pointed to Mannheim. The guards dragged him away, while Hochstetter went back into Hogan's cell and stared at the colonel. There was almost no physical resemblance to the man he had questioned in Klink's office. Hogan's looks, the spring in his step, his sense of humor, his lack of fear and respect, his obvious manipulation of Klink; all that added to Hochstetter's intense hatred of the man.

Hochstetter knelt down and examined the body. Hogan had lost weight, his shirt was in tatters and his hair was matted. His beard only added to the shadows etched on his face. The major realized that Mannheim had handed Hogan the cyanide, but that it was Hogan's choice to commit suicide. He considered the colonel's last act an act of defiance; a personal insult to his authority. Or was it? Could it have been an act of a desperate man? Yes. That was it. It had to be, or he would be forever consumed by the thought that the colonel had achieved the last word.

"So Hogan, you're human after all." Hochstetter removed the colonel's dog tags and left the cell. He instructed the guards to take the body upstairs, where it would be handled in the same manner as anyone else who had died in custody. The tags reminded him that he needed to notify Klink that Hogan was dead. That could wait until morning, he decided, as he entered his office and lay down on his couch, hoping to get a few hours of sleep.

The following morning, Hochstetter's anger again emerged. He was forced to report the security breach to his superiors, and since it happened on his watch, he was blamed. Berlin had been satisfied with Hogan's confession that the Manhattan project was a fake, and his reason for killing the Gruppenführer. They had been eagerly awaiting an actual execution. A firing squad would have provided closure and served as a warning to others. As usual, they dismissed Hochstetter's suspicions of Hogan's Underground activities. By the time he had finished the phone call, Hochstetter's mood went from bad to worse.

*****

During roll call that morning, Klink announced tersely that he had received word that a new senior POW officer had been assigned to the camp and would be arriving in a few weeks. He then dismissed the prisoners and went inside. Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk headed for the tunnels and waited for the Barrack's chiefs to show up for the meeting.

*****

Hochstetter was about to place a call to Klink then changed his mind. No, he would relish the experience of notifying Klink in person. Grabbing Hogan's tags, he left the building and set off, alone, in his staff car. On the drive over, he pondered whether or not to divulge all the details. Yes, he decided sadistically, Klink's reaction will be worth the trip.

*****

"Major," Klink stammered. "I didn't expect you in person."

"I needed to return these." Hochstetter tossed the dog tags onto Klink's desk. The Kommandant had expected this, but the shock of seeing the dog tags took him aback.

"So, he was executed. When? This morning?" Executions usually took place at dawn.

"No, Klink." Hochstetter took the extra chair by the desk, the one Hogan always used, and without an invitation, sat down. "He died last night in his cell."

"You tortured him to death?"Klink, who was appalled, asked.

"No, Klink. It was cyanide."

Klink was almost speechless. "Excuse me?"

Hochstetter leaned forward, coming within inches of the Kommandant's face.

"I said cyanide, Klink."

"No, he couldn't have. How would he get cyanide?"

Hochstetter sat back. He had seen Klink's reaction. Disbelief. He wasn't surprised. Now to dig in.

"It was given to him by Freitag's aide. As a reward, I think, for the killing; or perhaps he took pity on Hogan's condition. But," he paused, "We'll never know. I was forced to kill Mannheim in self defense. Yes. He gave it to him. It was Hogan's choice to take it, of course". The major sat up. "Now I'll never get his confession," he said angrily. "He was responsible for the sabotage, Klink. I know it."

"Now, Major. That's impossible. He would have had to leave the camp and of course…"

"Oh, knock it off Klink," Hochstetter interrupted. "Take the man off his pedestal."

Klink was insulted. "I never put him on a pedestal. He was my prisoner." Klink had seen enough. "Major, I appreciate you bringing me back the tags. Now this investigation has concluded. Please leave."

"Very well, Klink." Hochstetter, pleased with Klink's reaction, opened the door.

Klink stopped him.

"Major. Wait. Did you ever find out why Hogan shot him?"

Hochstetter thought a moment. Should he tell the Kommandant? Burkhalter would eventually request the report and word may get back to Klink. Sure, why not?

"No, the project was a red herring. He had nothing to tell Freitag. Freitag threatened all of the prisoners, and Hogan believed he would carry out the threats."

"So he shot him to protect the other prisoners?"

"Yes." Hochstetter shut the door.

Klink was left alone with that last image. Yes. The man he knew would have sacrificed himself for the other prisoners. He stood up, walked away from the desk and poured himself a drink.

*****

A brief meeting with the barracks chiefs ended in time for the staff to observe Hochstetter's car coming through the gate. The momentary feeling of apprehension subsided as no other cars, trucks, or troops followed. The four wordlessly entered the colonel's office, closed the door and plugged in the coffeepot. Carter choked back a sob as they heard the jingle of the dog tags falling on Klink's desk. Their grief turned into shock as the eavesdropping continued.

"This stays in here," Kinch stated. The rest agreed. Several more minutes went by and the four men digested what they had heard.

"London didn't get to him, at least there's that." Newkirk, who for some unknown reason, was tidying up the colonel's top bunk, said.

"I have to wait for Klink to give me the official news." Kinch was staring out the window.

All the men were trying not to think of Hogan's desperate last act. Was his condition so bad that he would choose to end his own life?

"He was afraid that Hochstetter would use us to get him to talk."

"Not just us, Carter. The whole camp. He told Hochstetter Freitag threatened the entire camp." Lebeau reminded the group.

"He was spinning stories till the very end." Kinch left the window. "Schultz is on his way over. Let's go." The four men left the room, closing the door behind him. They had no time to speak to the rest of the men in the barracks, as Schultz opened the door and solemnly told Kinch that Klink needed the sergeant to report to his office.

*****

Klink handed Kinch Hogan's dog tags. "You may start packing his personal items, Sergeant."

"Thank you, sir."

Klink debated on how much to tell the sergeant about how Hogan had died. Not wanting to suffer the consequences if the truth came out later, he decided to be honest.

"Sergeant. I have to tell you. Colonel Hogan was not executed. He died in custody."

Kinch tried to look stunned and angry. "So, sir. You're telling me he was tortured to death!"

Klink held up his hand, interrupting Kinch. "Wait. He took his own life. There was a breach of security and someone slipped him some cyanide."

"Who, sir?"

That's all I'm able to tell you, Sergeant Kinchloe. I'm sorry."

I believe you, Kinch thought. "Am I dismissed?"

Klink nodded. "Inform Sergeant Schultz when you have completed the packing. I'll see that the boxes are delivered to the Red Cross."

*****

All eyes were on Kinch as he walked across the compound. "It's over. Spread out," he told the men, "And notify the barracks chiefs." He then went down to the tunnels and placed a call.

*****

Bender managed to return to London three days after he left Hammelburg. He was immediately shown into the office of the general who issued the assassination order.

"I want you to know I discovered who Colonel Hogan was. My accomplice put two and two together. But this knowledge did not interfere with your orders, sir." Bender neglected to mention the short discussion he and his accomplice had about attempting a rescue.

"But you did not complete the mission," the general stated.

"Correct, sir. The best opportunity to inject him was after the security breach, but as I reported, he was already dead."

"Yes, we know." The general passed a file over to the agent. "We had a lengthy conversation with Colonel Hogan's second in command. He intercepted a conversation between Major Hochstetter and the Kommandant of Stalag 13. We know Freitag's aide slipped Hogan the cyanide and possibly why Hogan took it."

"I'd be interested in knowing more about that, but I do think I know why Mannheim did what he did."

"Go ahead."

"First, sir. The guy was nuts. He had a vendetta against Hochstetter, I think. No one would take him seriously. He wasn't allowed on the case, which was weird. After all, it was his boss. Then, I also found out that Hochstetter was obsessed with the colonel. Always suspected him of the sabotage."

"Ironic," the general stated.

"Yes. I think it was Mannheim's way of getting back at Hochstetter. Take something important away from him. And Hochstetter was furious."

"How did he know Hogan would take the cyanide?"

"He didn't. But he was betting on it. Obviously Hogan had information…"

The general stopped him. "We won't go there."

"Sorry, sir."

"Colonel Hogan lied about the reason he killed the man. He didn't want it to backfire on him. It's in the report."

Bender read the information. "Wow. So, he was obviously afraid Hochstetter would threaten the prisoners, just like he said Freitag did, to get him to confess to the sabotage."

"Among other things," the general added.

"This whole thing is a tragedy, sir."

"I agree. But once Hogan made the decision to walk into the office with a gun, there was no way out."

London contacted Stalag 13 and shed further light on Mannheim's motivations. The prisoners were told about the strange set of circumstances that took place, and although it was difficult, finally came to terms with Hogan's final action. They never found out how close the Allied agent was to fulfilling his mission.

Kinch asked someone else to monitor the radio; then locked himself in Hogan's office. He had been putting off this chore for several days, but finally mustered the will to tackle writing a letter to Hogan's parents. London was still waiting for the official Red Cross notification before sending the news out, but Kinch decided the sooner the better. "How do you say you're sorry to someone whose son died in Gestapo custody?" Kinch realized that if he gave Klink the letter, that part would be censored. No, he would write a letter and send it to London with the next Allied flyer they sent home. That would be fitting.

The entire outfit was anticipating the arrival of the new commander. They understood that the new officer could never take Hogan's place, but they were all professionals. From the youngest private, to Hogan's four closest men, they were willing to give the officer a chance.

*****

"I wish there were some way we could've let the colonel know we were there," Olsen mentioned to Foster as they took a walk around the compound, "That at least we tried."

"Yeah." Foster plopped himself on a bench outside the rec hall. It was a sunny day; one week after Kinch had officially informed the entire camp population that Hogan was dead. Morale had improved somewhat and the tension had decreased, as the prisoners were told that the colonel was not totally abandoned, but that a reconnaissance mission had been undertaken.

"I'll tell you, Foster, It still hurts." Olsen was tormented by the what-ifs and was having a hard time dealing with Hogan's death. He sat down next to his friend. The two were shortly joined by Kinch, Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk.

"You guys okay?" Kinch asked. He was aware that Olsen and Foster were carrying an extra burden, after having been so close to seeing the colonel. Foster, unlike Olsen, did not originally know about the Manhattan project. Kinch, however, had decided to bring him on board. He owed him that much, and he trusted Foster to keep quiet.

Foster looked up. "We'll be all right," he answered. "It will just take some time."

"Same 'ere." Newkirk took the seat next to Olsen. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering a smoke to the two men, who declined. Newkirk sighed and then put the pack away. He didn't have the energy to even strike a match.

"Maybe one day, we'll find out what Freitag knew. Besides about the operation, I mean, and it will all make sense?" Olsen looked up at Kinch. Was Olsen hoping for an explanation? He wasn't sure at this point that he wanted one.

"I don't know," Kinch replied. "I really don't know."

"No, Kinch. I think we will eventually," Carter said softly. He recalled the team's speculation about the project. "Whatever, it is, fellas; I hope it was worth it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) "How to Catch a Papa Bear"


End file.
